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"Well sir, you jest rest easy an' I'll get your horse myself." The morning wood-mists were warm, sweet-scented; the wood-birds' song of thanksgiving was glad with the essence of God-given life. But the man astride the dejected and weary horse saw none of the beauties of his surroundings, heard none of the harmony, experienced none of the exhilaration of the life all about him, as he rode slowly down the winding trail between the trees. He sat erect in his saddle, eyes fixed straight before him. His face was strong and seamed with tiny lines. The prominence of his features was accentuated by the thinness of the face. Beady black eyes burned beneath the shadows of heavy brows. A shock of iron-grey hair brushed his shoulders. In one hand he held a leather-bound book, a long thumb fixed on the printed page from which his attention had been momentarily diverted by his survey of the woodland scene. "Suppose," said Miss Acton, "that a French man-o'-war should capture you, and make you prisoners, what is to become of Lucy?.

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During the closing hymn Billy managed to evade the eyes of his elders long enough to slip outside. He wanted to be alone—alone to ponder over this great and wonderful thing that had come into his life. It was love—yes it certainly was love, strong worshipful love such as comes to but few, and to those few only once. Such love had made Trigger Finger Tim leap a fifty-foot chasm, swim a swift, ice-encumbered river and fight single-handed a band of painted savages to free his sweetheart from their murderous clutches. Billy knew that he would do as much for her! Immediately the Aurora's change of course was perceived the brig trimmed her canvas for a chase; she set stun-sails from lower boom to both topgallant yard-arms; these additional wings threw her out against the weeping gloom in a large, looming, menacing mass irradiated by an occasional flash of bow gun which dyed her canvas with a sudden yellow glare as of lightning. But these explosions were soon stopped, and the pursuit was continued in silence. "Your name's Scroggie, ain't it?" Billy asked. "You are very kind, sir, to take an interest in my affairs," answered Mr Lawrence with slight sarcasm..